Valiance Is Sacrifice
by A Sirius Crush On Moony
Summary: The story of Regulus's journey to the cave, and what happens to him in his final moments.


**This was written for 'The Eurovision Song Contest' competition on HPFC. My country was Malta, which had the prompt 'water'.**

 **I was really happy to write this (even though it broke my heart) because it's a scene that I have always wanted to write. Regulus is my favourite character, and let me tell you - I _really_ wanted to stray from canon on this, but I knew I shouldn't.**

 **I hope you enjoy! (...or not... *cries*)**

* * *

 **Valiance Is Sacrifice**

Ferocious waves crashed and broke thunderously against the cliff-face. The water was almost as grey as the sky, which was becoming cloudier and cloudier by the second. It looked as though there would be a storm. From where he was standing in the cave carved roughly into the face of the cliff, all that he could hear apart from the waves was the harsh whistling of the strong winds as it struck where he stood. He shivered as he stared out at this icy, dismal view. He knew that this would be the last time that he would ever see daylight again, and he wished that it could have been more beautiful than this.

"Is Master Regulus sure that he wants to do this?" came the frightened voice of the house elf standing next to him.

Regulus could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and he wished more than anything that he could go back home. He wanted to listen to his mind. He wanted to do his usual and run back home and hide, ignoring the bad things that were happening all around him.

But he just couldn't do it. Not this time.

"I'm sure," he lied. Taking a fleeting glance at the enraged ocean, he turned around and nodded towards the blackness of the cave. "Show me the way."

"Master Regulus might need to use magic so he can see," Kreacher said as they were engulfed in darkness. Regulus agreed with this idea, and took out his wand, muttering a quick ' _lumos_ ' charm. The light didn't help much—he could still only see a couple of feet in front of him.

"Here, Kreacher," he said, handing his lighted wand to the house elf. "You're leading the way."

Kreacher stopped immediately at this. "Kreacher cannot take Master's wand."

"Come on, think of it as a torch. You'll give it back to me later," Regulus bargained, smiling down at his favourite house elf though Kreacher wouldn't be able to see it through the darkness.

"Kreacher must thank you, Master," the elf said, holding the wand out in front of him.

They walked for what seemed to be a very long time. Soon, all they could hear was the distant whistling of the wind and their footsteps splashing against the moist cave ground. The deeper they ventured into the cave, the colder it was getting, and Regulus wished he had brought a thicker cloak. He wondered how Kreacher must have felt in his rags.

"Kreacher remembers this place," Kreacher whispered, his voice sounding almost haunted. They stopped, and Regulus couldn't understand how Kreacher could remember a place that looked so much like every other corner they had walked round.

"This is the place?" Regulus murmured. "I don't see anything."

He watched in silence as Kreacher stepped forwards and touched a section of the damp cave wall. "The Dark Lord made Kreacher give his blood as a price to get through."

Regulus was as infuriated as he had been the moment that Kreacher had returned from this cave the first time. His anger over what Lord Voldemort had done to his house elf only fuelled his dedication to carry out the task he had come here to complete.

"Could you pass me my wand, Kreacher?" Regulus asked through gritted teeth, trying not to let his anger show. The elf handed the wand over as though it was a burning coal that he had been holding for too long. Kreacher wiped his hands on his rags.

Regulus held his wand down so that he could see the ground. He was searching for a rock, and there were hundreds of them littering the cave floor. He searched for one that would do, and finally spotted a small rock that would do the job. He picked it up and examined it. It was sharply pointed at one end, which was exactly what Regulus needed.

He lifted his sleeve and revealed his pale arm. He chose to use the arm in which the Dark Mark was tattooed onto, just as a further insult to Lord Voldemort. Without a second thought, Regulus scraped the sharp end of the rock down his forearm, wincing slightly at the pain.

"Master Regulus should have let Kreacher-"

"-No, Kreacher," Regulus said firmly. "It should be me."

In the wandlight, his blood looked black. Against his pale skin it just looked eerie, and Regulus hurried to the section of the wall that Kreacher had touched. "Here?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," Kreacher replied solemnly. It was obvious from the elf's tone that he was unhappy with his master doing such a thing when he was perfectly capable of doing it himself.

Unphased by his house elf's solemn tone, Regulus ran his bleeding arm down the wall. He could feel tiny granules of dirt and stones entering his wound, and he flinched at the pain but never removed his arm. If he didn't die from whatever was ahead, then he would certainly die from infection.

"Kreacher would advise that Master Regulus steps back," came Kreacher's voice. Regulus decided it was in his best interest to listen to Kreacher, and took a couple of hasty steps back—and he was right in doing so. The wall was crumbling in front of them. Rocks and boulders fell relentlessly, in an attempt to crush anybody who may be underneath.

"Thanks," Regulus said quickly, swallowing at what could have been his untimely demise. "Shall we?"

"Yes," Kreacher squeaked, and Regulus just knew the worst was yet to come. They cautiously stepped inside the newly opened area of the cave and it was just more darkness. Regulus wasn't sure what else he had expected.

He walked a little further inside. The ground was extremely uneven, so he had to keep his wand low so he wouldn't trip over.

"Kreacher knows that there is water ahead and that Master Regulus must not touch the water," Kreacher said, his voice foreboding.

"I won't, but how do we cross it?" Regulus murmured, as he reached the water that Kreacher had been talking about. The water looked black, and awfully deep. He held his wand out and he could not see the other side of this indoors lake.

"There is a boat," Kreacher replied, and Regulus turned to him. The elf was stepping closer to the water's edge, but around a bit from where Regulus was standing. "Kreacher has found it! Master Regulus must come and sit in the boat!"

Regulus was so glad that he had brought Kreacher along with him. What he'd do without him, he'd never know. And the boat was there, waiting to be sailed across the lake.

He took a careful step into the small wooden boat and sat down on the seat. Kreacher hopped in and sat opposite him.

"So how do we-" Regulus was about to ask how they moved the boat, but the boat had already started moving. It moved slowly, giving him a little time to reflect on what would surely happen to him. He was going to die. There was no way he was getting out of here alive.

Regulus reached into his robes pocket and pulled out a locket. "Does this look good enough, Kreacher?" he asked the house elf, who gasped.

"It looks the same!" Kreacher exclaimed. "But how did Master Regulus know what it looks like?"

"It's the Slytherin locket," Regulus replied, handing the locket to the elf. "It's in books. Difficult to replicate, but I think I did it justice, don't you?"

"Yes," Kreacher said, clearly in awe of what Regulus had managed to do.

Regulus smiled, proud with his work. "You keep it with you, Kreacher. I'll need you to replace it with the real one when the time comes, okay?"

"Kreacher doesn't understand Master Regulus's plan," Kreacher said.

"You'll see, soon enough," Regulus sighed. He didn't want to hurt Kreacher in this way. He knew if he told his house elf what his plan was, that Kreacher would prevent him from doing it somehow. This was the only way.

They sailed for a while across the water, wary not to shift their weight on the boat too much in case it toppled. Regulus wasn't sure what was in the water, but he didn't want to find out.

They finally reached the other side. Regulus stood up slowly, allowing Kreacher off the boat before him. He then stepped out onto the small island that held the key to defeating Voldemort. Regulus could see that there was a peculiar crystal pedestal standing in the middle of the island. It was bright, almost blinding in the darkness of the cave.

"There," Kreacher said shakily, pointing at the pedestal. "Lord Voldemort made Kreacher drink the potion so he could put the locket in there."

Regulus strode closer to the pedestal—close enough that he could see a bizarre potion on the surface. The potion was emerald green, and it was almost florescent. Regulus had never seen a potion like it, and he knew his potions well. Next to the potion was a small goblet, also made of crystal.

"So you have to scoop the potion into the goblet and drink it before you can get to the locket?" Regulus mumbled, more to himself than to Kreacher, wondering what the potion did. By the way Kreacher was glowering at it, it didn't seem like a very pleasant potion.

"Yes," Kreacher said, his voice trembling. Regulus nodded.

"Kreacher, I need you to listen to me," he said, his voice sounding a lot braver than he felt. "I need you to help me drink this potion, no matter what happens. Do you understand?"

"But Kreacher can't let-"

"-That is an _order_ , Kreacher," Regulus said through gritted teeth. He hated ordering Kreacher. The elf was his friend, and it felt wrong. "You must replace the real locket with the one I gave to you, and you must go home and destroy the real locket."

"But what about Master Regulus?" Kreacher asked, his voice breaking. "Kreacher can apparate."

"No, Kreacher," Regulus said gently. "You will leave without me. I can't go back. You wouldn't understand."

Regulus had never seen Kreacher cry, and it broke his heart to see it. "Make… Kreacher… understand."

Regulus closed his eyes, drumming his fingers against his temple. "I've made too many mistakes," he said, beginning to pace. "Done so many awful things, that I can't make up for. If I go back, I can't work for Voldemort knowing what he's doing. If I go back and don't work for him, he'll kill me anyway. I'd rather die doing the right thing for once in my life. I need to redeem myself. You can understand that, can't you?"

"Kreacher has never known a braver wizard," Kreacher replied, bowing down to him.

Regulus shook his head. "Kreacher, don't bow down to me. This is goodbye." With that, he knelt down and took the elf in his arms, hugging him. He felt Kreacher's hand patting his back.

"Kreacher will miss Master Regulus," Kreacher whispered sadly.

Regulus pulled back and wiped away a tear that had escaped. He sniffed and stood up, composing himself. "Tell me what you will do."

"Kreacher will make sure Master Regulus drinks the potion, and then he will swap the lockets. He will leave the cave and destroy the real locket for Master Regulus," Kreacher said, almost as though it had been rehearsed.

Regulus smiled and nodded. "Perfect. Well," he said, stepping closer to the pedestal again. "Better get started."

He picked up the goblet with a shaking hand and scooped up some of the emerald potion. He brought it closer to his mouth, and he could smell it. It was a sharp sort of smell, almost like it was burning his nostrils when he inhaled.

Taking one last look at Kreacher, he put the goblet to his mouth and began drinking the potion. It was like ice trickling down his throat. One moment he was thinking that it wasn't too bad, and then next, he had dropped the goblet and was falling to the floor. There was something horrible going on.

He felt extremely dizzy and disoriented, and he knew he needed to continue drinking but he just felt weak.

It was then that he saw them – his mother. Sirius. Except it was like he had gone back in time. Sirius was only young—maybe eleven or twelve.

" _How dare you, Sirius Black!"_ Walburga screeched. Though Regulus had not heard her take that tone in years, it pierced him with a dark familiarity that made him want to scream. _"Not only did you get sorted into Gryffindor, but you're making friends with MUDBLOODS?"_

Regulus remembered this argument like it was yesterday.

"Stop!" he yelled, knowing what was coming. " _STOP IT. DON'T!"_

Walburga couldn't hear him—either that or she was choosing to ignore him. She pulled out her wand and pointed it at Sirius. _"Got nothing to say, boy?"_

" _I'm not sorry,"_ Sirius said bravely in his childish voice. _"I'm proud to be nothing like you."_

At this, Walburga was infuriated. _"Let me teach you a lesson in how to know the difference between things you should and shouldn't be proud of."_

"PLEASE DON'T!" Regulus shrieked hysterically, reaching out in desperation. He needed to stop her. He couldn't watch this again. He was vaguely aware of Kreacher forcing more of the potion down his throat, but he was too busy yelling at his mother.

She closed her eyes, flicked her wand briefly in a swift movement and the word came out of her mouth. _"CRUCIO!"_

"STOP IT, _PLEASE_! HE'S ONLY A CHILD, MUM, STOP IT!"

He watched the eleven-year-old version of his older brother writhing around in complete agony on the ground while his mother sneered.

" _REGULUS,_ " Sirius screamed through his tears. " _MAKE HER STOP!"_

Regulus wanted to make her stop, more than anything. Kreacher forced more potion down his throat as his mother stared coldly at him.

" _Regulus, darling. Do you want Mother to stop?"_

"TAKE IT BACK! I DON'T WANT THIS, _PLEASE_ TAKE IT BACK. I CAN'T… I CAN'T!"

He could not get through re-living this moment. It was the worst memory he had, and he regretted his decision every day of his life.

" _Regulus?"_ Walburga asked, her wand still inflicting torture on his brother.

Regulus's eyes flickered back and forth between Walburga and Sirius, and he knew that this was not real. He knew he could not change what had happened, but he still couldn't stop himself from yelling as Kreacher poured more potion down his throat.

"DON'T HURT HIM! HURT ME! PLEASE TAKE ME. LEAVE HIM ALONE. STOP IT! NO!"

But the Regulus that had witnessed this moment years ago had not yelled and begged his mother to stop. No, he had sat in utter silence, too terrified to stand up for Sirius and for what he believed in. He had watched as his brother was tortured for _fifteen_ excruciating minutes without doing a thing to help. He may have been a child, but he was a coward.

And he was forced to watch it again, because this Walburga could not hear his desperate pleas for Sirius's safety. Every second felt like a minute, and every minute an hour. But he was very aware of every minute, wishing more than anything that it was over.

Kreacher poured more potion down his throat, and suddenly Walbuga was gone. Sirius was gone. It was just Regulus and Kreacher and the dark cave. Regulus could feel remnants of tears on his cheeks. He swallowed hard, wiping his eyes and nose with the back of his sleeve.

He was thirsty.

"Did you swap the lockets?" Regulus rasped, feeling like his throat was closing up from the thirst.

"Kreacher has swapped the lockets as Master Regulus asked," Kreacher replied, sounding pained.

"Go home," Regulus mumbled. "Destroy it. Now, Kreacher."

Kreacher nodded gravely. Even in his weak state, Regulus could see that every bone in Kreacher's body—every instinct—wanted him to stay and help, but the elf knew that he had to obey his orders. With one last meaningful look, Kreacher disapparated, leaving Regulus alone in the dark.

Regulus gasped, trying to focus. Water.

 _Water, water..._

And that was when he realised—the lake. He couldn't even find the strength to stand up, so he used his elbows to drag himself across the island and to the water. He put his hands into the cold water, cupping it up, and putting it to his mouth.

Before Regulus could even take a sip, something cold and slimy gripped his arm with such a force that he could not challenge in his current state. He managed to take one look at the creature that had grabbed him before he was pulled under the water. It was a horrible-looking creature. Almost like a skeleton, but with oily, pale, decomposing flesh.

With the little strength that he had left, Regulus tried desperately to break free from the creature's grasp, but it was pulling him deeper and deeper under the water. He felt another hand grab his arm, and then two more on his leg, and then a further three on his other leg. This was how he was going to die.

The realisation hit him like a bludger. He was either going to be killed by these disgusting creatures or he was going to drown.

It was Regulus's choice, and he _wanted_ to die at his own hand. That would be the brave thing to do. He wanted to make Sirius proud of him in his last moments, even though he would probably not know of what Regulus was doing.

Regulus closed his eyes, vaguely aware of the fact that he was still getting pulled deeper underwater. He counted in his head. _One, two, three…_

He parted his lips, allowing the water to rush into his mouth and down his throat. He welcomed it. He was _ready_ to die. He could feel the water burning through his throat and right down into his lungs until it wasn't even painful anymore. It was almost as though his body knew that there was no way for him to come up for air, so it decided not to fight back against the water.

He felt himself smiling. He was going…

Almost like falling asleep. And for the first time in his short, miserable life, Regulus felt at peace.

He had finally done the right thing.

 **~The End~**


End file.
